


Resonance

by xerios



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Emperor Palpatine Being a Creepy Old Fuck, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-05-14 21:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5759461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xerios/pseuds/xerios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While hunting down a rogue Jedi, Darth Vader crash lands on a planet full of thunderstorms and picks up a stray.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 01:01:05

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a game of Star Wars : Battlefront, wherein I got stuck on a map by myself with Darth Vader. This story ends a hell of a lot differently than that match, let me tell you.

_There were some corners of the galaxy left untouched by the strife that had fueled the Clone Wars, worlds deemed unimportant to the grand clockwork design of the universe. The Old Republic had ignored them, caring more for population density and production outputs than enforcing their laws on systems so distant as to never be assigned a formal name. Such disregard allowed an expansive network of criminality to develop and thrive without consequence in the farther reaches of space._

_The status quo didn’t change much when the Empire took the place of the Republic._

_The Imperials were a bit more brazen in their patrols along the rim to be certain, but they also bought the services of a number of mercenary groups in areas where extending their reach would require more resources and manpower than they wanted to invest. It tended to balance out in the favor of the mercenary companies the majority of the time. After all, most of them knew blunt opposition and refusal wasn’t smart. The buyouts kept them alive in the long run, so as long as the Empire approached them openly about such contracts they left well enough alone._

_Then one day in a far off sector a group simply known as the Lancers detected a lone Imperial scout ship in their territory. It hung in orbit above a planet they had been using as an outpost, inspecting the hull of a long abandoned shuttle. They did not know why it was there, nor did they care much where the ship had come from. All they knew was a strange ship in their territory, and so they acted accordingly. Outnumbered, the Imperial ship was shot down and the Lancers flew off as it seemingly burned up in the atmosphere of the planet below._

_They did not notice that a single escape pod had managed to detach itself from the wreck._

 

* * *

 

Return to consciousness was agonizingly familiar - five years of existence within his suit had him accustomed to all its quirks and pains. There were error messages on the HUD in his helmet and one of the lenses had a crack across it. The most concerning alarm, however, pertained to the left leg components. The warnings showed that it had been completely detached. This was concerning, especially as it appeared that he was no longer in the escape pod.

Had impact been great enough to toss him from the pod?

Possibly.

It had been damaged upon ejection, a quarter of the control thrusters had pinged back damage just before all had gone dark. Atmospheric entry may have caused further deterioration. It had been a turbulent descent, enough to throw even him off balance. Elsewise, he would never have been knocked unconscious.

He was not alone.

Not only was there a presence evident in the Force, but he could also hear them. The noise was muffled - faint movement and the clink of metal, like someone rummaging through a toolbox. He could sense no malice, though that alone told him little.

Some people were good at hiding it.

He waited, stilled and simply mapping out his current surroundings with the Force. The room he was in was not truly enclosed, but merely a sectioned off portion of a much larger chamber. The walls of this section looked to be made of large shipping containers. The ceiling, what little of it he could see, was just a tarp stretched over the containers. The door was much the same.

There were smaller boxes, arranged as improvised furniture. One sat near the cot he had been lain out on like a makeshift end table. On it sat a small canteen, what looked to be nutrient bar, and his lightsaber.

He considered this information.

He had not been disarmed - not that it mattered much if he had been.

The tinkering sounds he had been hearing stopped. Heavier sounds followed - drawers first being pushed shut and then footsteps, alerting him to approach of his ‘host’. They echoed, supplying auditory confirmation that there was indeed a larger space beyond the makeshift room he had been placed in.

The tarp acting as a door was pulled aside. The figure that approached was human - average height, average weight. Short black hair and an over-sized jumpsuit masked more identifying characteristics - a young woman, maybe twenty years of age judging by the Force. She was carrying his leg, though the sleek black armor that had once covered the cybernetics was gone. Instead it was shielded with a crudely shaped dull grey replacement.

He kept still as she approached and set the leg down on the cot. It was more than apparent she did not know he was awake. Perhaps she did not even know who he was - else she would never have dared come near.

She reattached the limb and the warnings that had been flashing across his HUD disappeared one by one. Once done, she glanced up, as if expectant of a reaction.

He remained still.

After a moment of watching him lay there, she sighed and moved away to rummage in a box near the makeshift door. Pulling out another nutrient bar, she peeled the wrapper back before vanishing once more through the tarp.

He waited until her footsteps had diminished before moving. Carefully, he sat up, making as little noise as possible. He took a moment to inspect the leg she had reattached. It appeared to be in working order, though the replacement covering did not fit quite so well as the original. He then picked up his lightsaber and clipped it back in place on his belt. He regarded the canteen and nutrient bar for a moment before dismissing them. Sustenance wasn’t what was needed at the moment.

Standing, he made his way to the door, pushing the tarp aside to look beyond. The crate walls making up this makeshift room were actually two crates thick. There were more on either side, arranged similarly to section off portions of what appeared to be a massive cavern. Lights were strung between the crates - not strong enough to illuminate the entire space but enough to navigate by.

To the right the crates extended enough for one more makeshift room before ending sharply at stone wall, while on the left the floor sloped upwards with the stone rising up on one side and the crates lining the other. There were a number of metal grates set against some of the crates, acting as ramps to the top. Straight ahead was an improvised ladder - it looked to be one that had once been embedded into a wall, now torn free and haphazardly drilled into stone to provide access to a higher ledge. That ledge, in turn, allowed access what looked to be the steps of a metal catwalk.

He followed the catwalk up with his eyes, taking note of the cables securing it in place at the bottom. The top of it was attached to the hull of a ship - specifically, it appeared to be of the retractable kind used by older model freighters to allow ease of equipment movement. The airlock it would have normally regressed into was open and seemed to be providing a way in and out of the makeshift encampment.

However, it was not the way his host had gone - he would have heard it.

Ignoring the ladder, he turned left. There were several more rooms with similar furnishings to the one he had woken in, though oddly no personal effects. The last makeshift chamber held what looked to be an improvised kitchen. There was a fold out table, but only one chair set at it. The rest were stacked off to the side with a tarp draped over them. Several boxes sat nearby, holding various cooking implements.

On the other side of the room was a staircase composed of several metal containers stacked atop one another and welded together. The steps led up to the top of the crates, which were stacked in such a way that they provided an alternate route up into the ship. This looked to be a bit more stable than the catwalk.

He went up the stairs, only pausing a moment to glance at the pathways set up atop the crates before turning away. He did not sense her anywhere as he had passed by. No, she was up in the ship itself.

It was an old model freighter, designed so that the crates attached to the exterior. There was actually very little comparable space inside the ship itself. Enough for a crew and a few extra passengers - a total capacity of twelve at the most, as he recalled. It was remarkably in shape for having crashed. These types were not meant for atmospheric entry and yet the forward compartments were hardly touched.

He paused, thinking on this.

After a moment, he reached out to touch the wall.

It was faint, but he could sense a remnant of the Force permeating the ship. Someone, most likely one of the Jedi who had escaped the purge, had slowed the ship enough to ensure a relatively gentle landing. Whoever it was had been powerful. Very powerful - at the very least a Jedi Master. Not the one he had been tracking, though it mattered little.

The ship creaked and he continued forward.

His host was in the cramped space that had been the bridge. The forward view port had a number of cracks in it but was otherwise clear. She was perched in the navigator’s seat, gaze very pointedly facing the view port. Outside was naught but dark clouds and the distant snap of lightning.

“Pod’s there,” she said, voice scratched and so dry sounding that it barely qualified as a whisper. She seemed to repeat the words again, mouthing a continuation to herself before nodding out the view port and speaking up again. “In the storm.”

He studied the horizon.

The storm itself was far more turbulent than it had first appeared. Instead of simply handing in the sky, the clouds were raging and whirling against the ground itself. The immediate area around the ship was somewhat clear, though the sky was dark enough to be considered night. Judging by the wind, the grounded area of the storm was headed straight for them. The ferocity of the lightning was such that most delicate equipment would be fried just being anywhere within radius. Attempting to reach his pod would be fruitless, as the beacon was most likely damaged beyond repair.

As his ship had been destroyed, it would be a while before a recovery team would be sent. The very last ping anyone would have received would have been from the pod deploying.

“No one’s gonna come.”

He glanced at the girl.

She was still watching out the view port, half eaten nutrient bar in hand.

“Signals can’t...can’t get out,” she shook her head an almost frustrated expression appearing on her face. Again she seemed to mouth at silent words, as if struggling to figure out which were the right ones to say. Lightning snapped across the sky, followed swiftly by the rumble of thunder. He saw her eyes darting across the horizon, frustration turned to calculation. “Storm blocks signal. ‘Cept on the mountain. Mercs got the mountain. Can’t get signal out.”

Another snap of lightning punctuated the end of that haphazard explanation, the boom of thunder near instantaneous. From what he understood, it seemed that there was a group of mercenaries holed up in a bunker with a transmitter strong enough to bypass the atmospheric interference. The way ahead was clear, though venturing out into the storm would be more than hazardous. He would have to wait until it had passed. Then he could set out, find these mercenaries, dispose of them and call for a retrieval team.

“Your crew?”

Only now did her gaze flick to him, unnerved maybe, by the way his helm and mask distorted his voice. It was a common reaction among those who had never heard it before. She recovered quick enough, though.

“Dead,” was the answer she gave. He had guessed as much already, as she was the only presence he could sense. The silence after that answer was filled with creaks and groans as the wind picked up and tore at the outer hull of the ship. After a moment, she seemed to realize that a more complete explanation was needed. “Not...not all in the crash. Some before. Some after.”

She paused, frown forming on her face alongside another silent search for the proper order for her words.

“Hyperdrive malfunction. Dropped early. Mercs came. Shot captain. Shot pilot.”

She coughed then, voice having gone drier and drier. There was a canteen set on the console in front of her, which she picked up to take a few gulps before continuing.

“Hauled here. Tried to land. Crashed instead.”

“There was a Jedi aboard.”

A statement, not a question. It didn’t seem to phase her.

“Toyn,” she said with a slight nod. There was a note of irritation in her stating the name, though it was not directed at him. “Didn’t talk. Didn’t...help much, ‘til...”

She trailed off, frown returning deeper than before.

“He stopped the ship from breaking apart,” he stated with a certainty. “What happened to him?”

“Dead. After crash. Doc...doc said...all his...blood vessels, just...burst.”

She trailed off, but he had no need of further clarification. Over-exertion in the Force had characteristic features. Burst veins and arteries were just one facet, and an extreme one at that.

“His lightsaber?”

“Merc took it. Ran off.”

He considered this information as she took another swig of her canteen. She wasn’t lying, that much he could tell. There was an earnestness to her tone even if her speech was somewhat broken and rough. It was obvious she had been alone for some time.

Even more obvious was the fact that the crash had evidently happened years before the foundation of the Empire. Jedi Master Toyn had gone missing just before the outbreak of the Clone Wars, and only a cursory search had been made to locate him.  

That was near ten years prior.

The storm was just about on top of them, with ship creaking more and more under the strain of the wind outside.

“How long until the storm passes?”

She didn’t answer right away, but looked back out the view port at the maelstrom outside.

“Wind’s quick,” she said after a moment studying the clouds. “Not much lightning. Three hours.”

“Then you have three hours to gather what you wish to take with you.”

She looked back at him, expression akin to alarm. It faded quickly, morphing into determination as she hopped to her feet and darted out. He listened as her footsteps faded, considering the situation.

He could simply set out on his own. There was no doubt that would be able to find this mercenary stronghold by himself. It would, however, take far longer than he would like. Better to make use of the resources at hand to expedite things. Most likely the girl would die in the crossfire that would inevitably occur once they reached the mercenary compound.

If she somehow survived…

Well, he’d deal with that problem should it arise.


	2. 01:01:05 to 01:02:05

Just as the girl had predicted, the storm dissipated roughly three hours later. The skies were still dark and there was lightning higher up in the atmosphere, but otherwise the landscape outside of the downed freighter seemed stable. She showed back up near the bridge with a pack slung over one shoulder and a patchwork hooded coat now worn over her jumpsuit. Additionally, she had acquired an ancient looking blaster rifle, fastened in an easy release holster now strapped to her back.

He knew the model only vaguely. It had been old even during the Clone Wars. A terrible short range weapon, it was, however, rather formidable at medium and long range. He did not wonder if she knew how to use it. He had a feeling she would not be bringing it if she didn’t.

The wind was still strong when she pulled open a side hatch leading into a broken airlock. It howled across the opening. There was a short drop to the ground outside, no more than a meter. The girl went first, dropping down with an ease that could only come from something repeated on a daily basis. The wind pulled at his cape as he followed, though he paid it little mind. The temperature readings on his helm’s HUD showed that it was only fifteen degrees above freezing. The girl made no comment concerning the cold, her only acknowledgement of the temperature to adjust the hood of her coat. 

She set off, following the outer rim of the crash site towards the front end of the ship. He trailed behind her without a word. As they rounded the nose of the freighter, he could see just how fortuitous of a landing the ship had made. The hull was pulled up in places where it had skidded along the ground but otherwise the rest was intact, making an efficient cap to the ravine below. It was evident in the way the paint had been worn that the ship had been sitting there for years.

If the girl seemed distraught about their departure from the apparent safety of the crash site, she hid it well. That she had moved so quickly to gather her things to leave had him doubting her as having any attachment to the place. She had wanted to leave for a while, it seemed, and had simply been waiting for the opportunity to do so.

As they left the ship behind, they passed by what looked to be makeshift cairns. The rocks were stacked haphazardly but with a definite purpose. He counted eight in total and spotted a number of items tucked in and around the stones themselves, distinguishing them from each other.

The girl only gave them a glance and did not stop.

He kept silent.

The dark clouds that masked the sky made distance sight difficult, so the mountain she had described did not appear on the horizon until it was nearly full dark. Even then it was a smudge, a dark grey spire against a slightly lighter backdrop. They had been walking for several hours by then, stopping only twice in that time. It was highly evident that the girl knew the landscape as well as her limits. The pace she had set was quick but measured, as if she had gone this route a thousand times before. The two stops she had made were for food and water. 

Each time, she had offered him a nutrient bar and her canteen.

Each time, he declined them. 

As night fell they reached an area of jagged rocks and crags. The path dipped down into a crevice beneath between two large boulders, narrow at first but widening into a deep dim alcove. Stacked within were some supply boxes and what looked to be two worn bedrolls wrapped with a thermal blanket.

“Night gets cold,” the girl explained, unslinging her rifle and pack. She set them aside and opened up one of the boxes, revealing a portable heater. “Very cold.”

He watched for a moment as she began to set it up, before moving to the alcove entrance. The temperature was already dropping far faster than he had expected. His suit allowed for operation in sub-zero temperatures, but it did have its limits. Traveling in the dark, though feasible, would present more hazards than it was worth at the moment. He would make better time on a known path than attempting to forge one on his own.

Behind him he heard the faint hum of the heater powering up and the sounds of more rummaging as the girl set up camp. When he glanced back he saw her flattening out the bedrolls. Atop the boxes was set her canteen and two more nutrient bars.

He would wait.

 

* * *

 

The second day progressed much like the first, save much of their travel occurred along the bottom of a narrow canyon. The mountain was no longer in sight, blocked from view by the rocks and crags above them, but the path went roughly in that direction. It widened out as what passed for daylight there started to fade. The trail, however, went up along the right hand cliff face, transforming into a narrow sloping ledge.

In places it had crumbled away. The girl crossed these gaps with what seemed to be a practiced ease despite the ever growing height. She didn’t hesitate even at the widest of of the breaks. He did not falter either, using the Force to maintain his balance in places where the ledge narrowed too sharply. 

Near the top of the canyon was a crack in the wall just barely big enough for him to squeeze through. It dipped into the rock, expanding into a cavernous passageway that continued on and on into the dark. 

Here the girl paused, taking a moment to dig through her pack. She soon extracted a small lamp, lighting it and adjusting the output before continuing on.

The cave was mostly level, though it did at one point break into a series of uneven stair-like ledges leading downwards. Just past the bottom of these, several distinct corridors branched off from the main chamber, none of which appeared to be marked. The girl led the way down the third opening without so much as glance towards the others. It narrowed several meters in, barely wider than his shoulders - straight for nearly a kilometer before turning sharply to the left and widening out again.

There was another little campsite in this last chamber, with much the same contents as the last. The girl set her lamp down atop one of the boxes and began unpacking another heater as she had the night before. After the heater was powered up, she went back to one of the boxes and pulled out a roll of flimsy.

Closing the box, she flattened out the roll, using her lamp to weigh down one of the edges and a nutrient bar for the opposite corner. He moved to look, taking in the markings across the surface of the flimsy. It was a map - incomplete and somewhat worn at the edges, but a map none the less.

“The mountain?”

She nodded, studying it for a moment.

“There’s...ways in. Not easy,” she explained, tapping a spot which seemed to indicate a main door. “Big door there. Cameras watching, but…”

She moved her finger to another point a scant few centimeters away, the label barely legible - air vent.

“...here. Can get in. But...small. Tight fit.”

The girl glanced up at him, expression one of uncertainty. He ignored her for the moment, looking over the map and its various markings. It appeared as if the main entrance on this side led into a storage warehouse, with a corridor and a catwalk within. On one side of the corridor was a small room, its label drawing his interest - computers.

He tapped it.

“That?” she asked, peering at it. “Not...sure what for.”

“Can it be reached through the vents?”

“Yes.”

“Then you will do so. Disable everything.”

She didn’t argue or ask what he was planning on doing either. She just stared at him a moment before nodding and rolling up the map.


	3. 01:03:05

The door leading into the compound was an old style blast door set within an alcove cut into the side of a stone cliff face. There was a singular security camera mounted just above it. Beyond it he could sense several presences gathering - apprehension palpable. He was an aberration, an unknown factor appearing in place of what they had expected to see. The girl had already vanished, darting through a cut in the rocks around the side to reach the air vent she had labeled on the map.

He centered himself in the camera’s field of view and waited.

After several minutes, the door snapped open and a number of heavily armed men stepped out. Most of them were visibly human, though he spotted one twi'lek amongst them with heavily tattooed lekku. He stood still as they approached, weapons held ready to fire. When they were less than a meter away, he moved - lightsaber activating as he called it to his hand. 

He sliced through the first two in one swing. One step forward from that blow and the next one fell, finger on the trigger to fire. He pivoted, blocking bolts with his blade as the rest tried to retreat back through the door. He reached out with the Force, shoving the rest with a wave that knocked them back hard enough to snap their spines. There were still a few inside the door, but they had staggered and fallen due to the Force push. He charged in unimpeded, cutting them down as they tried to scramble to their feet. 

A short corridor led into a warehouse just as the scribbled map had promised. There were a few crates stacked in the middle, open and rusting, their contents long since emptied out. A freight elevator sat attached to the farthest wall, next to the door leading into the first floor corridor. The lift cables were disconnected, deliberately it seemed. The warehouse had not seen use in several years. There was, however, a metal stairwell leading up to the second level catwalk leading to another door, just like the map had previously indicated.

He started for it.

There were more mercenaries headed towards him down the second floor corridor. They reached the edge of the catwalk just as he did, blasters taking aim as the lights cut out. Swallowed by darkness, the mercs panicked. Blaster fire rung out indiscriminately, lighting up the area in short bursts. He deflected the bolts that came his way, advancing down the catwalk towards them. 

As he reached the middle, one of the mercs made the foolish decision of attempting to throw a grenade. It hit the catwalk at an angle and rebounded back, taking out those closest to it and sending everyone else flying back. Even he fell back, the force of the explosion knocking him into the rail and sending his lightsaber flying out of his grip. The blade extinguished as it fell. He tried to summon it back but the first grenade had triggered a chain reaction. The next few blasts caused the catwalk to buckle and then collapse, forcing him to focus on escaping it as it struck the ground.

When the dust cleared, he glanced about the wreckage. The darkness was no longer absolute - red emergency lighting now cast a dim glow about the area. The now broken catwalk was blocking access to the first floor corridor. A somewhat familiar presence was approaching down it. The door snapped open a moment later, the girl peering through. She looked only mildly alarmed at the wreckage.

He shoved the broken catwalk aside with the Force and strode past, surveying the lower hallway a moment before looking back at the mangled metal. His lightsaber was nowhere to be seen. He glanced upwards, searching the support columns. A second later he spotted it, wedged into a gap between a crumpled column and the supports for the freight elevator. He yanked it free with the Force and it returned to his hand.  
The girl watched this with an interest he chose to ignore for the moment. He started down the corridor and she fell in behind him, just a few steps back.

They encountered only two more mercenaries as they progressed deeper into the compound. These were dealt with quickly, though he could sense more of them moving about further on and further up. They soon found a terminal and with it a map of the facility. It showed that the main control room was three levels above their current position. With main power down, the interior lifts would be non-functional. There was an access stair nearby, but he knew they would most likely have stationed themselves in such a way as to turn it into a kill chute.

The girl took one look at the schematics before starting back the way they had come. He watched as she found a vent and pried off the grate. Realizing what she meant to do, he turned away as she climbed in and disappeared. The stairwell was just around the corner from the terminal. 

He waited just outside, listening and sensing.

When the sound of blaster fire rang out he went in, storming up the steps. As he hit the third floor landing it went silent. He saw three bodies at the door. Beyond the frame, two more mercenaries had their backs turned towards him, blasters aimed at a point further down the hall. They turned upon hearing him, but were too slow to do much more than shout in alarm. 

He killed them both and moved on.

Further down the corridor he found the girl, ducked within the slim cover of a recessed door frame. She glanced up as he passed by, before hurriedly falling back into step behind him, footsteps echoing his own. 

The control room was occupied only briefly. He simply Force slammed the occupants as the door opened, then strode over their crumpled corpses.

“Guard the door.”

She didn’t acknowledge the command, but simply unslung her rifle again and fell into position. He went to the command console, quickly restoring power to it and the comms.  It seemed the mercenaries had upgraded the original communications equipment that was installed, resulting in a transmitter powerful enough to rival most of the ones used to coordinate the Imperial Fleet. How they had managed this, he did not know, nor did he care much beyond the fact that it allowed him to contact his flagship. Relaying retrieval orders took only a few minutes. 

As he finished, a shot rang out behind him. He turned in time to see a mercenary falling to the ground at the far end of the hall. There were still several stragglers, it seemed.

He could wait for his forces to arrive to wipe them out, but the chance they might escape or restore enough systems to dig in somewhere in the compound was too high. He would have to hunt them down. He stalked past the girl, calling his lightsaber to his hand.

“Hold this room.”

She raised no objections as he departed.

 

* * *

 

He returned to the control room just as the shuttles carrying his troops arrived at the compound. The girl was watching from the window, expression one of mild apprehension as the retrieval ships unloaded several squads of troopers onto the outer landing platform. Whether that apprehension was from the presence of the soldiers now flooding the base or the increase of lightning on the horizon remained to be seen. Her gaze left the control room window when the troops found them, attention turning to focus on the new arrivals. The captain of the lead unit saluted him upon entering.

“Secure this location and select a garrison,” he commanded. “I want this made into a permanent outpost.”

“As you command, Lord Vader.”

He turned to leave, keenly aware that the girl was now watching him as he approached the door.

“Come.”

He did not pause to see if she would obey - observation told him with reasonably certainty that she would.

He strode down the hall, ignoring the storm troopers now traipsing through. They jumped aside as he passed and saluted as they should. He led the way back to the side warehouse with its broken catwalk. He stood there, surveying the mangled metal for a moment before turning to look at the girl. She had stopped just a few feet away, watching him with a wary expression.  

“Toyn’s lightsaber,” he stated, holding out a hand for it. She didn’t look surprised at this, nor did she ask how he had known. Without a word, she reached into her pack and pulled it out, handing it over. He gave it a glance, then clipped it to his belt beside his own. “From this point forward, you will be completely honest with me. Lies of omission will not be tolerated. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“Toyn was planning on training you.”

It wasn’t a question and he did not expect any kind of response. Least of all the change in her expression. It was subtle, a slight flash of irritation that was more palpable in the Force than on her face.

“Planning,” she echoed, annoyance putting a slight amount of strain into the tone of her voice. “Arguing. Didn’t...didn’t know what ‘no’ meant.”

That did sound exactly like what he knew of Toyn. From what he recalled, the Jedi had departed Coruscant shortly after a rather loud disagreement with the Council. He hadn’t known the cause of the argument at the time, but now it seemed evident. Toyn had identified a Force sensitive and had most likely tried to cite precedent in being allowed to train the girl. From what it sounded like, it seemed he had gone against the Council’s ruling.

“I can not train you,” he stated after a moment. “The Emperor is particular concerning those sensitive in the Force. He will not allow it. But neither can I allow you to continue as you are.”

She didn’t say anything to this, just waited and watched him with the same wariness as before. 

“What I can do is offer you a place within the Empire’s ranks.”

“...like a soldier?”

“An officer. Of a division that answers solely to me.”

She was silent, perhaps contemplating the offer. He saw her eyes dart to the exit corridor for a brief moment before flicking back to him. There was a distant rumble of thunder, heralding the arrival of the storm outside, muffled only a little by the walls.

“Alright.”


	4. 01:04:05

“You can not be serious.”

It was an unfortunate reality of the Empire’s command structure that led to a number of officers thinking that they stood on equal enough footing to question him. He had yet to curb such tendencies among those aboard his flagship. This officer in particular was new to command and somewhat drunk on the authority that came with the newly granted rank.

No doubt the other commanding officers aboard were equally displease. This one had simply been the most bold of them - Vargin was the name, he recalled. Not one of the one he had appointed, but someone foisted on him by necessity. The pips adorning the rank plaque pinned to the officer’s uniform declared the held rank to be that of Brigadier General, though that mattered little to him.

“It was a breach of protocol to even allow her on board,” Vargin continued. “And you want to not only induct her, but jump ranks by placing her as an officer? The very suggestion is unacceptable!”

For now, he ignored these rantings. They stood in an observation room attached to one of the holding cells usually reserved for the questioning and processing of prisoners. There was a window, tinted so as to allow him to see into the other room. No one within would be able to see out, as the exterior surface was opaque and blended perfectly with the wall.

At the lone table inside the room sat the girl, devoid of her pack and rifle - they had been confiscated upon arrival. Prior to being placed in the room, she had been given access to a washroom and provided with a spare jumpsuit. It appeared whoever had been in charge of supplying said jumpsuit had guessed one size too big, for it looked far too baggy on her frame.

“Are you even listening?”

He turned from the window to glance at Vargin, who was red faced and wearing an indignant expression.

“Your concerns have been noted.”

“Concerns? These are more than just concerns! We are a military organization, not a charity!”

The half choked gasp that emanated from Vargin’s throat a moment later was only somewhat satisfying. A minute exertion in the Force, precise enough as to cause discomfort but not enough to kill the man.

“You forget,” he said as the general’s hands scrabbled madly in a futile attempt to thwart his grasp. “You were placed under _my_ command, not I under yours.”

He released Vargin, who fell to the ground coughing and gasping for air. Point sufficiently made, he turned back to the window, ignoring the sound of the door as the general stumbled out.

No doubt the Emperor would be hearing of this transgression, though not until they had completed their current mission. There was to be no comm chatter core-wards until the Jedi he had been hunting was found and eliminated. That had been the order and should the general breach it, he would find no mercy from the Emperor no matter the reason.

In the other room an admittance clerk had entered to sit across from the girl, datapad and stylus in hand. The girl eyed each movement with a wary alertness.

“Alright, let’s get this over with” the clerk said, tone one of disinterest. “Name?”

“Ven.”

The clerk sighed at this.

“Full name.”

“Maven Nyrakis.”

She watched as the clerk tapped this information into the datapad.

“Age.”

“Don’t know,” she responded, a very slight frown crossing her face. “What year is it?”

The clerk looked somewhat perplexed by this question for a moment, before grudgingly relaying the date. The girl’s frown deepened, the expression shifting into thoughtful.

“Twenty.”

The clerk jotted that down and continued with several more questions. He turned away from the window - the rest of the questions he cared little for. They were formalities needed to establish her a place within the Empire, however temporary that might be. A name was all that was needed to perform his own search.

His flagship was connected to the main holonet servers. So long as they were within range of a comm buoy, he could call up whatever data was needed from the Empire’s archives. He moved to a nearby data terminal. It took only few moments to input the parameters and narrow down the search - the results filtering out onto the screen. The information displayed corroborated much of what the girl had told him.

She had been born on the self-same derelict freighter now rusting away on that storm plagued planet, to a human mother and an absent father. A notation in an old medical file stated that her parents had been separated months previous. She had grown up travelling planet to planet, raised by the ones now residing in the haphazard cairns he had spotted in their trek from the crash site to the mercenary compound.

The last recorded upload of the ship’s log neglected to include a route or destination, though that told him very little. Freighters travelling through the outer rim in that time period rarely kept accurate records, for fear of pirates slicing the net. There were no notations concerning Toyn or the jedi master’s intentions, though he had hardly expected any to begin with. The Jedi Order had not kept many records on Force potentials beyond a certain age. As Toyn had been acting in defiance of the Council’s orders he had no doubt that every effort had been made to act discreetly.

Fortunate, as it made it easier to hide the girl’s abilities. She was already adept at suppressing it, though he had to wonder if that was innate or the result of an outside influence. In the end it mattered little - either she’d be able to hide it from the Emperor or she would fail.


	5. 01:12:05

The jedi he had been tracking was a minor knight known as Corro Dallyns. Offworld at the time of the purge, Dallyns had supposedly been escorting a cadre of medics to various outposts along the outer rim. When word had seeped out of the demise of the Jedi Order, Dallyns soon vanished. Only a few reports remained of the jedi’s mission and even fewer remained who had actually dealt with the man.

And then Dallyns was sighted by an agent on Telsav eight days after their departure from orbit around the storm plagued planet. The description received matched all known accounts, so there was a degree of certainty that they now had their target. The planet was an agrarian world at the furthest end of the Corellian Trade Corridor. It was sparsely populated with no local garrisons whatsoever.

He intended to change that.

Harboring a fugitive was a grave offense after all, and a garrison was the least he could do to provide some sort of enforcement of the law. He only had to select a capable officer - perhaps one who was keen on following protocol. There were several such candidates aboard, but one in particular he was leaning towards in favor of all others. Of course, the selection would have to wait until after their errant jedi was dealt with.

In the hangar, he stood watching as his shuttle and the drop ships that would be accompanying it were loaded. Their agent had pinpointed Dallyns’s location to a small settlement in the northern hemisphere. He would be attending to that matter himself, bringing three squads of troopers along to subdue the town itself. The rest were being sent to secure the capital.

“You will not engage in combat unless directly threatened.”

The girl simply nodded in acknowledgement of the command, having moved to stand beside him a few moments prior. The jumpsuit she had been wearing previously was replaced now with a standard uniform, the pips of a low ranking officer secured in place on her chest. She had been given a holdout pistol which hung in a holster strapped to her leg. It was short range only and was not meant for general combat.

This was a test.

When the time came to board, she followed him onto the shuttle without a word and took up a perch in one of the jumpseats near the front. He saw her gaze dart over the troopers within, lingering on their blasters for an inordinately long time. The shuttle ramp had sealed and launch prep had finished by the time she glanced away.

Their descent was without incident.

The shuttle followed the dropships in, landing in the center of the settlement to a blaze of blaster fire. It became immediately clear that they faced more opposition than a single jedi and a few disgruntled farmers. Someone had been arming this settlement with military grade weaponry.

He swept out of the shuttle just behind the troopers, deflecting the few bolts that flew his way. A quick survey of the field revealed that many were holed up in the buildings surrounding the square, with makeshift barricades blocking off some of the streets. This was far too coordinated to be mere coincidence - they had evidently been expected.

Dallyns was nearby, he could sense it. But the jedi was attempting to mask his presence, to throw off the scent. It would not deter him in his hunt, but it was irritating.

“Secure the buildings,” he told the commander of the squad that had accompanied him on the shuttle. He gestured to one that had a comm tower attached. “Install a sniper on that tower.”

The commander nodded and gestured to the troopers, moving out while he side stepped into full view. His presence drew fire from all sides, but it was a simple matter to deflect. For all the weaponry they had been given, the settlers were poor shots. He gestured for another squad to press down the main avenue. They advanced, taking the bulk of the attention with them.

When the remaining squad moved to clear the side streets a moment later, he felt a subtle shift in the Force. Not the girl, whose presence had diminished to the point of almost being nonexistent, but something else entirely. He glanced to his shuttle, which stood empty save for the pilot and a lone guard to hold it. Then he turned and headed towards the comm tower, lightsaber still ignited as he reached the entrance.

The lobby was vacant save for two dead settlers with blaster marks marring their chests. It was far too quiet, the only sounds that of sporadic blaster fire from outside. He stepped over the bodies, lightsaber casting a deep red glow over their still forms.

He found the reason for the silence a moment later - the stairwell had collapsed atop his troopers. The weight of five floors worth of durasteel had crushed them. It was a calculated move - the perpetrator had waited until all of them had started up the steps. He had no doubt that it was his quarry.

Somewhere above he heard the sound of a pistol discharging.

The girl - she had gone with the troopers. Her innate ability to hide herself meant the jedi most likely had not sensed her and so she had escaped the trap that had been set.

He looked to the wreckage. It was tall enough to reach the second floor with only a small bit of a jump. He climbed up, reaching the landing as yet another shot rang out. Now he could sense the jedi and the girl - her presence now seemed amplified, drawing the jedi’s focus so acutely that his own presence still appeared to be unnoticed.

He stalked down the hall, not bothering to mask his steps. Two more shots sounded off, the hum of deflection echoing out after. He turned into the room in time to see one last shot flash out and the girl’s holdout blaster yanked from her grip. He saw her gaze dart ever so briefly to him then back. She dropped abruptly to the floor, kicking at the jedi’s feet.

It only half worked, but it was enough.

Dallyns fell to one knee, only just noticing him as he lunged. The jedi tried to bring his lightsaber up to block, but the blade swung too low. The red of his own saber bit deep into the crook of the man’s shoulder, sizzling as it sliced through flesh. His quarry gave one brief pained cry before all breath was driven out, falling to the ground with a final sounding thump.

The jedi’s lightsaber remained gripped tight in one hand. The girl watched as he picked it up, before moving to fetch her holdout blaster. He waited in silence while she secured it in its holster before sweeping out the door.

Her steps echoed his own.

The square was secured by the time they had exited the building. His troops had rounded up a number of the settlers near the central town office. He surveyed them a moment before turning to the senior most commander among the squads.

“Secure them for now,” he told the commander. “I will have a prisoner transport sent here after we have finished subduing the capital.”

“As you command, Lord Vader.”

The commander gestured to some of his troops, moving out as he returned to his shuttle. The girl shadowed him, returning to the same seat on the now empty shuttle. She stared at the wall, silently mouthing words as the ramp closed.

In the end she said nothing.

 

* * *

 

The holocomm chamber dimmed when he entered. As he knelt in the center of the room the projector crackled to life, displaying the image of the Emperor atop a strategically placed dias.

“The jedi Dallyns has been dealt with, my master,” he stated as soon as the connection was secured. “There was...some resistance from the settlers on Telsav. They were subdued and a new governor instated.”

“Yes, yes, I am aware of General Vargin’s promotion,” Palpatine responded with a dismissive gesture. “He made his report the moment you left the capital. That you completed your mission as was expected of you does not interest me.”

The projection looked down on him, the Emperor’s expression undetectable - the cloak Palpatine wore so frequently caused a shadow across already marred facial features, a trait that did not translate well over the holocomm. But he knew the posture well enough to hazard a guess that he was being frowned at. Of course, he knew exactly what he had done to earn such an expression.

“I am far more interested in this account of your new recruit.”

He stayed silent, having expected the Emperor to have been told of the girl. No doubt Vargin’s report on the incident had been less than generous. The general had probably deliberately amended some details in order to curry favor - a gesture that was more than likely not fruitful. The Emperor hadn’t reversed his promotion, after all.

“Tell me of her.”

“The girl is an exceedingly skilled sharpshooter,” he stated, careful to keep any sort of inflection out of his tone - a difficult task, all things considered. “She has shown a level of ingenuity and resourcefulness much needed in our ranks. Given training and access to proper equipment, she would be a formidable asset.”

“Is that all?”

He did not respond. What more could be added there that wouldn’t expose the truth of the matter? What could be said that would allay suspicion? Nothing.

“I am surprised that you would take on the responsibility of overseeing said training,” the Emperor said, a disquieting note to his voice. “It would have been far more prudent to send her to one of the academies.”

Another silence passed as the Emperor watched him. He kept still, waiting and watching as well. He knew Palpatine suspected him of hiding something -  he was and rather obviously, he supposed, but it would not be openly stated. Not here, anyways.

“Bring her here. I wish to see this...prodigy of yours with my own eyes.”

“As you command, my master.”

The hologram flickered and vanished, leaving the room darkened once again. He stayed there, staring at the dias for a few minutes longer.

An attendant stood just outside the chamber, saluting as he approached.

“Inform the bridge that we are to depart for Coruscant immediately.”

“At once, Lord Vader.”

The attendant move away, quickly pulling up the ship’s internal comms. He did not wait to ensure that his command was followed through on. He knew it would be.

He reached the lifts as the jump to lightspeed was made. As they were currently on the outer rim, it would take a few days to actually reach Coruscant. He therefore had some time to impress upon the girl the importance of keeping her Force acuity hidden. Since it was literally a matter of life and death for her, she wouldn’t argue.

As he stepped onto the lift he felt a burst of anger not his own - reactive rage, fading into a defensive wariness. Five decks up were the barracks and it was from there which it had emanated. He keyed the lift, stepping out a few seconds later to sweep down the corridor towards the commotion.

Several officers had arrived to the scene before him, along with a medical team. There was something that looked suspiciously like blood staining the floor and someone lying atop a stretcher. Not the girl - he sensed her elsewhere, though still somewhere nearby. He approached the officers, the senior of which turned to address him.

“Lord Vader, there has been an incident,” the officer informed him. “We were just about to pull up the security footage.”

“Show me.”

The officer held up a datapad for him to view, keying up the security recordings for that particular corridor.

The screen displayed a group of troopers walking into view from the top edge and the girl from the bottom. From their gait, he could tell the troopers were intoxicated - not surprising after a victory, minor though it was. They stopped to gesture at the girl and one made to grab her arm when she didn’t respond. Her reaction to that was almost too fast to track, but it left the one who had tried to touch her bleeding on the floor.

The others reacted in a visibly upset manner. They appeared to shout at her, taking on an aggressive posture as she shouted back. Just as they moved to lunge forward, she shoved her hands towards them. They went slamming back against the wall hard enough to stun them. The girl stared at their slumped forms for a moment before backing away and out of sight.

He handed the datapad back to the officer as it showed another trooper running onto the screen from the top edge.

“Attend to your subordinates,” he said, turning away from the officers. “I will deal with the girl.”

“Yes, Lord Vader.”

He found her sequestered in quarters further down the hall. He did not stop to wonder how she had gained access to them. If she could shut down the power grid to an entire compound then a door would provide little challenge.

She watched him warily from the corner as he entered.

“You learn quickly.”

She didn’t respond to that. He hadn’t exactly expected a reaction - she was still on guard, still bristling. Most likely, she was anticipating some form of punishment.

“What did you say to them?”

That question did garner a reaction - her face went from wary to puzzled frown.

“Told ‘em...if they...touched me, I’d...take their hands off.”

He watched her gaze dart away from him. It was not an ideal situation, but he knew this incident would not be the last. His officers already disliked that he had given her a rank without even a cursory nod to protocol. It was inevitable that there would be a number of troopers who disliked the circumstances as well. She would have to learn to deal with it in less messy terms, but this at least was a starting point.

Provided, of course, she survived their meeting with the Emperor.

“You said...not to engage in combat unless directly threatened.”

He stared at her. It was not just the string of unbroken speech, but the repetition of his words - his command - to her from that morning that struck a chord.

“I did.”

“They threatened me.”

“They did.”

That seemed to settle the matter for her. No longer bristling, the apprehension bled from her frame. She had made her explanation, unneeded though it was. But there was a far more troubling aspect than this - she was no longer minimizing her Force presence. He did not wish to think as to why she no longer felt the need to hide it.

“Come,” he commanded, turning to the door. “We have much to discuss and little time.”


	6. 01:15:05

Coruscant loomed in the forward view port of his flagship. They were approaching from the night side, so the surface of the planet glittered with the lights of a city perpetually awake. The girl stood nearby, watching their approach with only a mild apprehension.

Her Force presence mimicked that of someone with very little affinity. He did not expect her to hide it entirely - it would be far more suspicious if she did. Better to give off just enough to present an implication of mild sensitivity, enough to explain away her targeting proficiency and the incident with the troopers, and perhaps the Emperor would seek no further explanation as to her recruitment.

“Sir, your shuttle has been prepped,” and attendant announced from the speaker of a nearby comm station. “Crew of standby.”

He turned and strode out without acknowledgement, the girl falling into step behind him. Her gait echoed out a beat and a half behind his own. She shadowed him down into the hangar, taking the same seat in the shuttle as she had when they had made their descent to Telsav.

The flight down was short and uneventful.

The shuttle landed at a private platform within one of the ornate courtyards of the Imperial Palace. As the ramp lowered, they were met by a contingent of the Imperial Guard, the red of their robes a dark crimson in the dim light of dusk. The girl gave the a wary glance as they were escorted inside.

The Imperial Palace had originally been the Jedi Temple. It had taken nearly five years to retrofit the complex to suit the Emperor’s needs. The grand hall was much the same as it had been before the rise of the Empire, though the walls were now decorated in scarlet banners bearing the Imperial sigil. He sensed the girl growing more and more anxious with every step, though he guessed her apprehension did not stem from the decor. There was an imprint in the Force echoing through the corridors, one he had long ago learned to ignore.

They were taken into the main audience chamber, with two of the guards taking up positions on either side of the door as it closed. The far wall was a bank of windows with a view of the endless city skyline. On a dais before the window the Emperor stood, looking out towards the horizon, back turned towards the entrance.

He moved to kneel at the foot of the dais and the girl did the same with no prompting. After a moment, the Emperor turned away from the window to regard them.

“Rise, Lord Vader,” The Emperor commanded with a gesture of his hand. “And you, child.”

The girl stood slowly, posture blatantly wary. This seemed to amuse Palpatine, who smiled. That expression, amidst the wrinkles and the pale flesh that was the Emperor’s face, was not reassuring in the slightest.

“Nervous?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Never met an Emperor before.”

That drew out a dry, raspy chuckle. It was a knowing laugh, the sound of someone who had figured out a particularly difficult puzzle. The Emperor beckoned for her to approach.

“Come closer, child.”

The girl moved forward, her steps taking her out of the radius of his physical reach and into the Emperor’s. It was a subtle tactic - a display - but it set him on edge in a way he could not explain, or rather, refused to acknowledge.

Palpatine cast a brief glance in his direction before turning attention back to the girl. A bony hand reached up to touch her cheek - she neither flinched nor shied away. The contact was brief, the smile on the Emperor’s face widening into a knowing grin.

“I suspected as much. You have _her_ look. Darker hair and lighter eyes, but…”

Palpatine trailed off, looking directly at him, expression now equal parts amusement and pity. The latter was far more enraging than the first. He fought to keep it from bleeding out into the Force. It was insulting, what those words implied, but if that was the conclusion being drawn he would take it gladly. The Emperor watched him closely, perhaps searching for a reaction. When none was forthcoming other than the usual aura of simmering rage and menace he projected on a daily basis, Palpatine's grin faded into feigned boredom. With a dismissive gesture, the Emperor stepped away from the girl and returned to the window.

“Keep her, but see that she does not become a distraction from your duties.”

“As you say, my master.”

* * *

 They were escorted back to the shuttle in much the same fashion as they had entered, flanked on either side by Imperial Guards. They were silent, their helms rendering it impossible to discern their expressions, but he could feel sideways glances being cast in his direction. He wanted to strangle them, to crush their vocal cords so completely that not a single word of what had transpired could pass from their lips.

His fingers flexed at every other step.

The girl stayed quiet as well, the only sound of her presence that of her footsteps echoing his. He could feel her gaze on his back, unwavering - and yet, more infuriating than all else, was the thought that a single action on his part could end it. In one movement, he could cut her down and that would be it.

But it was a trap, he knew, one that he had so willingly walked into. The Emperor’s suggestion - insulting and enraging and wrong - was just one more ploy meant to keep him in check. Its purpose was as much to undermine his decision to recruit the girl as it was to provoke him. Any action taken at this point would be an admittance of inadequacy, while acquiescence meant an unspoken acknowledgement of agreement with Palpatine’s conclusions concerning the girl’s resemblances to _her_.

The guards left them at the landing platform without a word. He stalked up the ramp to find the pilot already prepping for launch. He made no comment on the matter, but glanced back to see the girl already seated, her gaze no longer on him but on the wall directly opposite. She hadn’t said a word since they had departed the Emperor’s presence and he had not wished to even look at her, lest it be taken for an admission.

Now though, he saw the stiffness in her posture, the clench of her jaw, and he knew the Emperor’s words had enraged her just as much as they had him. She was trying to hide it, had managed to keep it from bleeding out into the Force, but it was plain to see in the way she was so carefully avoiding looking at him now.

“I’m not her.”

He hadn’t expected her to speak, hadn’t expected such a declaration either. It was now sorely evident the girl did not like being compared to someone she knew nothing of. Somehow knowing this quelled his rage, at least for the moment.

“You are correct,” he agreed, turning away. “You are not _her_.”


	7. 01:30:05

Trees stood spear like in their reach towards the sky, canopy blocking any view of the stars. Leaves and various other detritus crunched underfoot as his troops made their way through the forest. A full battalion had been landed to march on the estate of Bosko Kalsantiiv, former governor of the planet Thalros.

Former governor, because three days previous the man had fled their siege of the planet’s capital to hide behind several hundred hired guns. A new governor had been installed at the command of the Emperor and he had been assigned to hunt down Bosko. Normally such an assignment would have been given to any one of the number of commanders within the Imperial Hierarchy, but Palpatine had been very insistent that he was to secure the estate himself.

He had his suspicions as to why.

Bosko was a collector and the estate had a sizable vault within its schematics. No doubt there was something locked up inside it that the Emperor wanted. He would simply have to ensure that he gained access to it before any of Palpatine’s other agents.

Fortunately, he had an advantage that they did not.

The girl had proven to be an asset when it came to infiltration. She had become highly adept at accessing places neither he nor his troops could get to. In the siege of the capital, she had found a way past the city’s defenses and into the control center for the power grid, shutting it down. Now she was far ahead, presumably finding a way into the vault. He would not know if she had succeeded until well after his troops had swarmed the compound.

Blaster fire rang out ahead - the walls of the estate were in view. Flashes of red mixed with occasional blue and green lit up the landscape. The vanguard had charged straight in, drawing the attention to the main gate.

His own detachment continued marching, skirting around the side of the mansion. Their aim was for a small hangar bay holding Bosko’s personal shuttle. His flagship sat in orbit ready to shoot down any attempt to flee off world, but should the former governor try to flee elsewhere on the planet they would be unable to prevent a launch.

He was certain that Bosko would try to run, but not without attempting to gather up some valuables. Which meant the girl would most likely be caught in the vault. He had considered that possibility well before their arrival and had deemed it an acceptable risk.

They reached the hangar, its blast doors still firmly shut. His troops fanned out, taking up positions outside the doors. A group started to set up anti-vehicular turrets at certain points beyond the launch area for the hangar. Blaster fire continued to ring out from the front of the estate as they dug in.

“Front gates breached!” Called one of the squad captains. “Hold position!”

Every trooper held their weapons ready to fire. It was only a few minutes later when the hangar doors started to open. The second they were wide enough, the squads flooded the bay with blaster fire. A stray bolt hit a fuel canister, the resulting explosion filling the hangar with smoke and flames.

“Forward!”

The nearest squad moved out, heading into the smoke, unphased by the lessened visibility. A few more shots rang out, but the destruction in the hangar had taken out a number of the estate’s security forces that had chosen that particular route to escape. Their half charred bodies littered the ground, what remained of Bosko’s shuttle smoldering in the middle of the hangar.

“Secure the area,” he commanded of the unit commander. “Seal off all corridors leading in save the main hall. Should the governor be found you may take him prisoner. All others are expendable.”

“Yes sir.”

He moved out as the orders were relayed to the squad captains. The main corridor was clear, though he could hear the muffled sound of blaster fire continuing in other parts of the mansion. It was sporadic - the last pockets of resistance from the estate’s security forces. They would not last much longer.

Having reviewed the schematics, he knew where the vault was housed. There was very little opposition lying in wait - two hired guns in a lower hall who attempted to flee at the sight of him. He flung his lightsaber at them, using the Force to guide the blade. It sliced into one, then rebounded into the other.

He stepped over their bodies as the hilt returned to his hand.

The vault was open when he reached it, the body of a security officer hanging out of the door frame. The chamber itself appeared to have been plundered. Credit chips were scattered across the floor. Another security officer was splayed out in the middle of the floor, scorch marks marring a once pristine uniform.

A third body was slumped before an opened safe, identifiable as the former governor. More blaster bolts decorated this body and the walls around it. Credits had spilled out of the safe along with a few data pads and trinkets of indeterminable origin. For all intents and purposes, it appeared as if there had been a scuffle over the contents of the safe. The victor of that scuffle had left no identifiable trace.

The safe held a remnant of the Force - faint, dark echoes of something that had once been held within. Something ancient, but also new. A puzzle, though its disappearance was easily solved. He turned, exiting the vault as the all clear was called out over the comms. The unit commander was in the main hall when he emerged from the lower levels, conferring with two other squad leaders.

They saluted as he approached.

“Secure the vault and its contents for transport,” he ordered. “The Emperor wishes to know exactly what the governor was hiding. Ensure that each item is cataloged.”

“As you command, Lord Vader.”

* * *

The girl was sitting in her customary seat aboard his shuttle when he returned to it. He ignored her for the moment, moving into the cockpit to address the pilots.

“We will be ferrying several crates of cargo from the governor’s personal vault,” he told them. “Go and oversee the loading process. Ensure that they are properly secured.”

“Yes sir.”

The pilots unbuckled and got up, grabbing their equipment before heading down and out the ramp. He waited until they were out of sight before turning to look at the girl. Her face was several shades lighter than normal, nearly white compared to the darkness of her hair and uniform. It was the only outward implication that something was wrong.

“What did you find?”

It was difficult to see where she might have hidden something. The uniform she wore held no pockets save for the ones reserved for code cylinders. She barely moved, slipping one hand to the holster of her holdout pistol, or more specifically the space between said holster and the strap that held it in place. There was a small niche there, from which she pulled a sliver of something wrapped in cloth. She did not look at it, but simply held it out for him to take.

He lifted it away, unfolding the cloth to see what looked at first glance to be a small curved piece of bone. He turned it in his hand. There was a faint trace of darkness emanating from it. A piece of a mask, he realized - an ancient sith mask. The girl was watching as he examined it, alertness and tension in her posture. He folded the cloth back around it and tucked it into one of the pouches on his belt.

There was more that needed to be asked, but now was neither the time nor place.


	8. 02:01:05

The observation deck of his flagship had become a favored haunt of his recruit. The floor to ceiling windows tended to be disorienting for those not used to extended space travel, but the girl had taken to them like a bird to open air. It was there that she could be found more often than not and it was there he found her now, Thalros looming bright in the background. She stood before the glass, watching the ships of the fleet rearrange themselves in preparation for departure.

The girl turned from the window as he strode in, what could only be described as a troubled expression adorning her face. He stopped a few feet away, taking note of the tension in her posture and the darkened crescents beneath her eyes.

“What did you see?”

An abrupt question, one that would have provoked counter queries were he addressing any other enlisted aboard. But the girl knew at least something of the Force and the ways it could be used despite her lack of training. Her brow furrowed as she considered the question, lips forming rapid phantom syllables as her mind chased down the words she needed.

“I saw someone in a mask, a man...just...walking,” she answered after a moment, frown deepening into something frustrated as if the words weren’t quite right. “He was walking towards me...fifteen steps...but...the mask changed. His clothes changed. Everything around and about him changed except...the walking.”

There was more, he knew, but she had lapsed back into the silence that always seemed to accompany her moments of wrestling with vocabulary. He pulled the fragment out as he waited, unfolding the cloth to examine it once more. One edge was smooth and polished, while the other held a jagged edge to it as if it had been broken off from a much larger piece.

“It started out whole...the mask. When it was new, the eyes had red above them and through the middle. Rest was...not white...more like bones.”

“You said it changed.”

“It...dulled...the red...and then there were cracks,” she said with a shallow nod. “It broke as he walked. There were broken walls too...on the third step. Each step forward was a different place.” 

She paused, gaze darting briefly from the fragment to his own masked features and then away again just as quick. That hesitation seemed indicative of some internal debate - he could sense sudden uncertainty in her presence now, a wariness that felt very much similar to the aftermath of the corridor incident.

“You said that lies, even ones of omission would not be tolerated.”

“I did.”

“What if...what if I’m not sure which parts are true?”

He considered this, fully aware of the tension building in her posture as he did so. There was another question buried behind that one, he knew - she would not have gone through the trouble of clarifying beforehand otherwise. He glanced at the fragment in his hand, running a thumb along the polished side before looking back at the girl.

“You’ve seen it before.”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“I don’t...I don’t remember the where,” she answered, the uncertainty in the words now tinged with an edge of fear. “I was four...the ship was docked. Everyone was loading crates. Windows in the station...I saw him there. Looking. I pointed...and my mother...she was scared. We left then...fast.”

The girl fell silent as a she watched for some sort of reaction on his part to the scrap of a memory she had presented. It truly was no more than a shred, and while it did provide some interesting information, it did nothing to solve the underlying puzzle of why the Emperor would desire the fragment. 

A mask, even an ancient sith one, was not exactly useful on its own.

“Your vision, you said it shifted locations,” he stated, examining the cloth the broken chunk of the mask had been wrapped in. It was black with a dark red line embroidered down the untorn edge. “Describe them.”

“Hallways. First grey stone walls and floor, dull light. Second metal floor, piping in the walls. Third cracked walls, floor stained red. Fourth bright with white walls, clean grey floor.”

He watched her as she continued, each location bleeding tension from her frame. There was not remotely enough information in her words to draw any conclusions concerning the whereabouts of the former owner of the mask, but the girl didn’t know that. When she fell silent again, the apprehension and wariness she had been exuding were gone.

“Should you have another vision, you will report it to me,” he told her, folding the scrap of fabric back over the fragment. “Ensure that when you do so that there is no one else present. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

Holding the cloth wrapped fragment out for her to take, he ignored the faint flicker of surprise that crossed her face as she took it from him.

“You will destroy this. No trace of it is to remain on this ship.”

He did not wait for her acknowledgement of the command before turning to leave - either she would follow it or she would not. The latter option would be the more foolish choice on her part, but would make for convenient reasoning in the future should he need to dispose of her. It was another test, but one with an obvious answer already laid out.

The door snapped shut behind him.


End file.
